


Furs and Fires

by Harp_of_Gold



Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Fireside Cuddling, Fireside Sex, M/M, Snow and Ice, TSS Advent Calendar, soft silvergifting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-15
Updated: 2020-12-15
Packaged: 2021-03-11 03:48:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 648
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28088772
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Harp_of_Gold/pseuds/Harp_of_Gold
Summary: Annatar ends up cold and damp after a walk in the snow. Tyelpë makes everything better.
Relationships: Annatar/Celebrimbor | Telperinquar, Celebrimbor | Telperinquar/Sauron | Mairon
Comments: 10
Kudos: 47
Collections: Tolkien Secret Santa 2020 ADVENT CALENDAR





	Furs and Fires

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Tolkien Secret Santa NSFW Advent Calendar Day 15 prompt: Furs and Fires

“Tyelpeeeeeë! Why did I let you talk me into this?” Mairon’s plaintive wail was only partially exaggerated, and by the end of it, actual tears were forming in his eyes. “I’m going to freeze to death, and it will be your fault!” 

Tyelpë had betrayed him utterly, and now he was cold and wet and miserable. _“A little walk in the snow,”_ he’d said. _“It’ll be fun,”_ he’d said. Not so different from the way he’d lured Mairon to their comfortably secluded cabin in the edge of the Misty Mountains in the first place— _“An artists’ retreat will do us a world of good!”_ But so far there’d been lots of cuddling and drinking hot mulled wine by the fire, and scant progress on their Ring project.

“It was one snowball, Annatar. I don’t think you’ll die.” Tyelpë smiled at him fondly as he unfastened Mairon’s cloak and hung it up inside the door.

“What would you know about it?” Mairon muttered.

“Let’s just get you out of these clothes.” He started working at the laces of Mairon’s heavy wool tunic, but paused to kiss away his tears. Mairon whined when he pulled the tunic over his head. It was wet, but still better than the touch of cold air on his skin. He shivered. “Oh, Annatar. You really did get the whole snowball down your shirt. It’s soaked. I don’t know how you managed that.” 

“Told you so.” Tyelpë didn’t seem put off by his petulance. He knelt and tugged off Mairon’s boots, and Mairon realized he wasn’t stopping. “Wait, you can’t leave me naked! My pants are fine!”

“That’s not what you said outside. You said _everything.”_ He eased the trousers off Mairon’s hips, pausing to brush a kiss over his cock with a devilish smirk. “Don’t worry; it’s not for long.” Standing, he scooped Mairon into his arms and carried him across the room, setting him carefully on the thick bear skin rug in front of the hearth. Thankfully they hadn’t been out long, and the banked coals still glowed hot. Tyelpë draped his own cloak around Mairon and tossed some logs on the fire, rousing it to a roaring blaze. “I’ll be right back, love.” 

Mairon hardly noticed, too busy tugging the bear skin closer to the fire and sinking his chilled fingers deep into the fur.

“Annatar, come here.” Tyelpë had returned, wrapped in the heaviest coverlet from their bed, plush red velvet on the outside and lined with soft fur within. “I’ll get you warmed up.”

Mairon didn’t trust that twinkle in his eyes, and sure enough, when he crawled over to join him under the blanket, he found Tyelpë had stripped too. The slide of fur against his bare skin as Tyelpë enfolded him in safety and warmth brought back memories of other snowy days, when Melkor had wrapped him in furs and whispered his love for his precious little flame in Mairon’s ear. But that was long ago, and he couldn’t let himself think of it. Not now. He leaned up, straddling Tyelpë’s lap to kiss him, and the heat of Tyelpë’s mouth grounded him in the present. As long as he had this, he’d be all right.

“That’s better. Can’t have my noble Maia lord freezing, now can I?” Tyelpë caressed his hips and traced his cleft as if he understood the preciousness of the treasure he held. “Perhaps I could make it up to you?”

Mairon was beginning to forget he’d ever been cold. He kissed Tyelpë again, longer and deeper. “That would be acceptable.”

They’d fucked so often beside the fire already that they kept a pot of oil on the hearth. It was pleasantly warm on Tyelpë’s fingers. As Mairon sank onto his cock with a satisfied moan, he thought Tyelpë might be right about creativity needing room to breathe and grow. The rings could wait.


End file.
